Sarin'Fel Journal, an RP Project.

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Sarin'Fel Journal, an RP Project.

by Justinlc91 » Thu Jul 02, 2015 12:04 am

I wrote this a couple of months ago and since then have lost focus on it. I hope one day to pick it up again but I'm on to grander things . . . It's important to note that I wrote this journal at the end of each day (or every couple as you'll notice). The person whom I meet, and where we go is where and what we were doing in-game at that time. It was a fun way to turn boring questingin to an epic adventure as even the smallest detail can turn in to a dramatic event. I highly recommend a "journal" to detail your adventures in Azeroth. . . Enjoy

Sarin'fel Journal, Introduction . . .

Before I begin I'd like to introduce the main character of these journal entries with a description of her past in order to better understand her present and future. Through trials of friendship, hardships and adventure she will rediscover her humanity or forever be consumed by the hungering power of The Void.

Introducing Sarin'fel in life known as Sarina Fellows,
Sarina Fellows was born in to a long line of respectable and distinguished mages mostly belonging to the arcanist community of Dalaran. She harnessed no small amount of skill in her practices and thoroughly enjoyed her studies which entailed the very in-depth topic of the very basics of arcane energies in all forms. It wasn't long before she wore the mantle of Dalaran Mage. In spite of these achievements tragedy struck in a most vile form; Arthas had murdered his father and claimed Lordaeron for the Scourge. Sarina was unfortunately caught in the aftermath of this and slaughtered by rampaging forces.

In death she had no name, no distinguishing features or talents, and most certainly no will of her own. She was taken to the front of the assault on the Ghost Lands as a simple Shadow Mage barely worth the magical depth it took for the Lich King to manipulate her. She was defeated early in the campaign and lay motionless while the Scourge dredged onward towards the annihilation of the Sunwell.
She drifted to an unknown region of consciousness, one of an abyssal cold and
forever anguish, as if she lay beneath an hour glass the sand pouring down on her.
Mute whispers and sentient forms are vaguely acknowledged and forgotten as she
drifts away in to nothingness.

A hollow breath fills her mind and a brief shock of arcane stiffens her body; she is not alive, or undead even... she is Forsaken. With renewed consciousness she recalls the events of her death and enslavement
under the Lich King but lacks the emotional depth to express this. She climbs out of the crypt and is greeted by Undertaker Morrows. There is no need to acknowledge the change or question her existance, it is all clear and . . acceptable. Her time in what can only accurately be expressed as "The Void" has given her a new line of studies, one that is linear with her previous life but much more relevant now. She is convincing in that studying Fel, Shadow and Necromancy as a means to defend against such magics is her only motive. . .but a deep and dark hunger has set in.

Page One . . .
It took some time to establish my self as a loyal member to our Dark Lady but finally I am out of that rotten pit known as Dethknell and have just recently arrived at the Inn of Brill. I have pursued the teachings of Void Magic though despite my background as a once mage and then once shadow mage there was still some unnecessary . . friction. It took a great amount of convincing that my motives were genuine in that I only hoped to better prepare against the darker energies of magic. Still they toil with their simplistic questions of explanations and loyalties to the proper factions. They had told me that to become a 'Warlock' was not to simple wield this power but demonstrate absolute control over it unless one should be engulfed by the pursuit
of said power. Forsaken warlocks are not like other warlocks, we lack much of the emotional depth that pollutes our motives. In a sense we may be the most pure of thought and intention. . . No matter. I'm out and free to pursue my studies.
I have been called to the Undercity at request of the head of warlock teachings. He wishes to pass on the knowledge of a summon directly linked to The Void. I can see the once great walls of Lordaeron even from Brill . . it has been so long since--
*Scratches of ink and a partially torn page make the rest of the journal page incomprehensible.*

Page Two . . .
The amount of knowledge Carendin Halgar has can make him a dangerous enemy to anyone . . even his allies. I assume he purposely allowed the Scarlet Crusade to aquire the Book of the Void, a test. After reclaiming and returning the book I was allowed to view a brief number of it's pages as is entailed: Void Magic is the singular term for the diverse field of Dark Arts or Black Magic, the three primary categories being Shadow Magic, Fel Magic and Necromancy.

Shadow Magic is the purest form of Void Magic as it calls directly upon the dark energies of The Void.

Fel Magic is magic that has been corrupted by dark energy in the same manner the burning legions forces, once sentient beings from other planets, have been transformed and twisted in to their burning form.

Necromancy involves dark energies used, to a relatively positive manner, against the dead and a negative manner against the living; examples being Soul Stone on the dead, Soul Drain on the living.

Turning the page the arcane construction needed to summon the Voidwalker; an intricate and of course delicate design of runes and perhaps an ancient language, though I can't be sure. Below the diagram was a brief description of the Voidwalker: The Voidwalker is the physical manifestation of the remains of an agonized soul that was claimed by The Void, the magical bracers binding it. Once summoned it will do the summoners bidding without remorse or riposte. It is more automaton than sentient being which makes the micromanagement tedious; but to control the Voidwalker is to control a piece of The Void, it's touch is agony and it's presence is oppression. The beast that was once graced with light is now hollow and tremendously savage.
*You turn the page and continue reading on the backside*

When I returned to Carendin he already had the summoning structure laid out on the floor, ready for use. Summoning the Voidwalker was not like summoning the lowly Imp. . The Imp was brought to Azeroth without hinder, the Voidwalker had brought me to The Void for the briefest of moments, though I can't be sure I was truly there . . Upon beginning the summon the lighting around me dimmed and nearly broke my concentration but I continued. The further into the summon I got the darker it was before I was nearly blinded. A dim set of eyes appears and sank to the floor, with the summoning completed I see an oil of sorts on the ground slowly shimmering with shades of blue it was nothing less than entrancing. Before long a release of gaseous vapors surrounded me blinding me once again there were crackles of arcane energies that caused the oil to take an enormous shape the arms extended and bracers bound that clamped tight around the wrists of the Voidwalker solidifying it's presence. Lastly the white eyes, burning with energy look my direction; I take no time in preparing a spell when the beast lets fourth a hollowed groan that closely resembled thick steel rubbing on course stone. I had felt the vaguest traces of fear for the first time in possibly forever but they were pushed aside quickly by determination and will.

Carendin Halgar informs me that many had fallen before me and looks deeply, almost through me, and say's a single word before departing:Orgrimmar.

Page Three . . .
I've never been on a zeppelin before. The oddity of the contraption is only outdone by the brash and potent idiocy of the goblins. The entire trip left me in a trance of astounded aggrivation. Still to my surprise I reach Orgrimmar. The salty air from the sea conditioned my skin to some degree but I find the harshness of the desert uncomfortable; my skin cracks and my hair dries out and fades in color quickly.
*The majority of the page is smudged and difficult to read. You are under the impression that the journal was at one point tossed, face down while the page was open, perhaps in a violent frustration.*
NOTE: Never ask an Orc for directions.
I know now that my assignment was not arbitrary; my skills are needed here and I've been given the opportunity to study a . . "culture" of dark magic. The Shadow Council, or more accurately a cell of the council has made it's way in to Orgrimmar. I've been assigned to infiltrate their hierarchy and eliminate any points of power. Before I do that though I must venture to Razorhill and eradicate a branch of the cult. I expect to learn much about demonic influences, perhaps even find a trinket or relevant knowledge.
Thrall thought it necessary that he assign me a partner in this regard, a Blood Elf named Solange Starwell. I will respect this alliance for now . . the Dark Lady wishes our peoples work together whenever possible. Personally I don't expect her to last very long. She is as thin as I am and must spend a great deal of time keeping her appearances orderly. . How something so fragile can be a zealous force is beyond me.

We'll rest in Orgrimmar until night and make our way across the desert. It is the only way to do so without a beast of burden to carry water.
*Continued on the back of this page*
Solange is wasting no time in prying in to my private affairs and when she isn't doing that she's telling me of her numerous lovers and how fortunate her upbringing was compared to the "average". I had to remind her that in comparison I am a newborn. This was a mistake as it invited her to inquire about my previous lives. A
brief metaphor got the point across: My life was a setting sun, my death a moonless night and now I witness the dawn of an eclipse.
The only thing more frustrating than her banter was her blind sense of direction! She'd fall in to death's maw if not for my direction! It is no wonder these people are losing their minds.

Page Four . . .
Solange has taught me something about the Blood Elf race: They're going to perish. In order to keep her appearances in check she'll drain almost every plant we come across of whatever magical essence it has and use this to replenish the luster in her hair, the shades of color on her face. These people are withering away if not going insane because their culture relies so heavily on magic but still they aren't willing to sacrifice even the most simplistic commodities.
I suppose in the eyes of the righteous the forsaken are no less . . we're willing to live as lightless abominations than uphold our living morals because it has become our culture. Perhaps it's the regaining of our free will that allows us to justify this contradiction?

Razorhill isn't far ahead and the sun is rising, Solange will want to rest. I'll find whoever is in charge and explain the situation. I expect more compliance now that I am under Thrall's orders.
When I inquired about the Burning Blades location and any useful scouting reports I was given no small amount of grief; The Orcs find it nothing less than offensive that two females from less reputable races of the Horde are here to do their work. So much so that they've decided we'd be more useful helping them with other matters. . . Kul'tiras, Quillboar and Harpies. . . Between the hot sun, dry desert and pigheaded Orcs it's easy to see why the Burning Blade is so appealing. I told Solange of my dealing with the Orcs and she blamed it all on me! She assured me it was the fact I'm a walking corpse with no stimulating appeal, before storming off to address the issue her self. Well to her surprise the Orcs didn't swoon over her obnoxious grace and nearly threw her out of Razorhill!
Solange and I left town immediately after that. We're heading south west towards the Kul'tiras.

Page Five . . .
We've been lost in Durotar for several days now. If not for our shallow diets I don't expect we would have survived very long out here. We're both able to harvest life forces from various plant life in which is all that is keeping us sustained at the moment. But we know the general direction of Razorhill and are heading that way
now as we've finished our duties.
Solange Starwell isn't nearly the delicate creature I had first labelled her for. The animosity she shows towards her enemies is tempered, but not at all diminished, by the discipline of her paladin training. She's taken on a totally new persona in light of this. There's a tone of seriousness in her voice and determination on her brow. I
had seen her impale one of the Kul'tiras Marines and decapitate another with one graceful riposte. It is agreeable to have her with me. Though there's a darkness to her light that I don't think she'd tell if I asked. Not a poetic kind of darkness but a literal power of dark energies that underlay her.

It's come to my attention that perhaps the way shadow magics work on a living vessel isn't simply a destructive force. If enough dark energies are concentrated on the afflicted subject it seems the light from their body is slowly sapped away, which leaves them in a state of despair and perhaps even loneliness. My enemies look to me for an answer to this in their final moments and sadly I can not provide them with the proper knowledge. Fortunately there are many opportunities to experiment further. The victims of soul draining seem to experience this in a much greater length than those of other shadowy application. All I know for sure is that their last fleeting moments of agony are forever imprisoned within The Void and I'm sure they realize this. I just noticed a smile on my face.
Page Five Continued . . .
We've just arrived at Razorhill before the sun fell. The orcs were more than pleased with our reports of success. Apparently all it takes to win these grunts over was a test of mettle. They offered us food and drink and a nights rest before we march on the Burning Blade. At first I was confused as to why we required a small army but after seeing the scouting reports I understand now: There are two large caverns that the burning blade reside in, the first cave is right above Razorhill which is where the orcs will attack. The second is nearer to Orgrimmar which is where Solange and I will go. Once word reaches the Burning Blade that the orcs are attacking any remaining forces will bottle up in to the second cave to protect their leader; by that time though Solange and I will have weakened their interior defenses and have their leader within our grasp. The orcs will arrive to finish off the rest of the Burning Blade within the cave in one stroke.
I'm informed that shadow magic has little effect on the Burning Blade. . . I find this a shining opportunity to practice my fel magic against worthy students. If they force me to forsake the shadows then perhaps they will learn to regret the illumination I bring.

Re: Sarin'Fel Journal, an RP Project.

by Mugo » Sun Jul 05, 2015 9:23 pm

Psot moar! Me likezorz!
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